


I'd Rather Laugh with the Sinners

by brokenpromisesandhope



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bipolar Disorder, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff, Frottage, Idk if it is pseudo incest but to be safe, M/M, PWP, Pseudo-Incest, Smut, Unsafe Sex, daddy! mickey, ian and mickey will always drink hot chocolate in my fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenpromisesandhope/pseuds/brokenpromisesandhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey meets his daughters boyfriend Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Rather Laugh with the Sinners

**Author's Note:**

> This really isn't as bad as it sounds but it's probably still fucked up. Warnings below darlings!   
> This took me like 4 days to write and it was supposed to be pointless smut.   
> Kudos/comments make me feel better cause I feel like this sucks.  
> Xx   
> T

He's a lonely, single closeted gay guy with a kid. He tries to justify the first time he meets his daughters boyfriend. His baby girl Camille is beautiful, he knows that, of course he does, and he's certainly not biased at all, but her boyfriend is smoking hot. Like Mickey's ready to bend over the table because goddamn. 

He's got fluffy red hair, and freckles and his biceps are definitely fighting with his shirt to keep them inside his gray shirt. And one of those muscled arms is on his daughters arm. Because this is her boyfriend. Right.   
"Daddy? Are you alright?" Camille asks, tossing a perfect black curl over her shoulder.

Mickey realizes he's gripping his fork quite tight, but it's more in an effort to not reach over and see if the guy's skin is as soft as it looks. And this is his daughter's boyfriend, fuck him.   
"Yeah baby, I'm good. Ian right?"   
"Yes sir, Ian Gallagher. Thanks for letting us take you out tonight."   
"Don't thank me until you leave here with no broken bones." He deadpans taking a gulp of his drink.   
Ian laughs, and Mickey drinks more of his drink.   
It's gonna be a long night. 

"So honey, how long have you and Ian been dating?"   
"Um," her eyes flash to Ian and Mickey's eyebrows raise.   
"Are you hiding something or?"   
"No not at all Daddy!" Camille rushes out.  
"Then what?"   
"Sir-"   
"Call me sir again and I'm gonna stab you in the hand." Stupid long fingers be dammed.   
"Sorry Mickey, we just don't want you to-"   
"Are you fucking pregnant?" He says this maybe a touch too loud, just because of how many people stare at them. 

"Dad!" She squeals. "No! We've just been dating awhile."   
"How long is awhile?"   
She bites her lip,   
"About eight months."   
"What the fuck Camille? We talk every single day and you've never once even mentioned a guy."   
"Well you never mentioned any women."   
"That's because there's no women in my life! And I don't answer to you."   
"Okay, Daddy just relax. We're telling you now okay?" 

"Mickey, if it helps I mostly wanted to keep it a secret. Cami told me you were a little-"   
"What?"   
"Abrasive Dad, I said abrasive."   
"Well what made me so lucky that I finally get to meet this charmer." He gestures for the waitress to bring him another drink. 

"Well actually Mickey," and fuck the way he says Mickey's name- god he needs to get laid. "I thought I should finally get to meet you because I want to ask your permission to marry your daughter."   
"No. Fuck no! Fuck no!" Mickey hollers.   
"Dad, Dad, calm down please!" Camille hisses, blue eyes frantic.   
"Camille Sapphire Milkovich, you are fucking nineteen years old. You've been dating this fucking ginger boy for eight months and you think you wanna play house with him? No. The answer is no." 

He gives in. Of course he gives in. Camille is his baby, the most important thing in his life. She whines and cries and complains to him, begs and doesn't let it go. 

"Daddy." She says seriously, looking up from her espresso. "I love him. You married Mom when you were nineteen and I know the situation was a different one and fucked up, but I love him. I love everything about him, from the way he let's me press my cold toes against him in bed to the way he let's me manage his meds."   
"Meds?" Mickey asks.  
"Dad, Ian's bipolar. I can't do this to him."   
"Honey, you can't be expected to shoulder that kind of responsibility. "   
"That's not it. I want to. It's a part of him, just like his red hair. It's who he is. I want you to be on board with this, but I'm not waiting around forever Daddy. We're getting married, whether you approve or not." 

The next time he sees her she's wearing an engagement ring. 

Even though he's accepted his little girl is getting married, it's hard because now Ian is around all the time, and he's getting no less attractive. 

It feels like Camille and Ian have been over for dinner every single night, and they're eating this delicious chocolate cheesecake that Ian made because yes he can cook and karma is a huge asshole, when Camille brings it up.  
"So Daddy I've been thinking."   
"Wow that's something you don't do very often." Ian teases, and Camille slugs him on the back of the head.  
"Shut up! I want you guys to go out for drinks or something. Have some guy time. Make it so you don't cringe every time Ian lays a hand on me."   
And god help it if she didn't know the exact reason he didn't want Ian touching her.   
"Fine." He agrees, finishing his beer. 

"I know this is kinda awkward but-"   
"First step of making a situation not awkward is to not mention the awkward." Mickey deadpans.   
Ian gives him a crooked grin and Mickey looks away.  
"You're funny. And right. So let's just try to make this work for Cami."   
Mickey nods as they wait outside to get into a loud flashy club.   
"I think I'm too old for this shit." He bounces on his toes slightly because it's freezing out here. 

Ian takes a step closer to him and god does it turn Mickey on that he's taller than him.   
"You're not that old Mick. Cami said you were seventeen when her mom got pregnant right?"   
"Yeah. Still old."   
"Well I'm twenty four so what does that make me?"   
"Too young to be saying you're old!" Mickey says, punching his shoulder. He realizes something and turns to look at Ian. "You're five years older than my daughter."  
Ian grimaces but nods.   
"Don't you fucking hurt her." He says, pushing a finger into Ian's solid chest.   
"I won't. I love her."   
"I'll kill you."   
"I know." 

They're in the crowded club, a few drinks later when someone grabs Ian,   
"Curtis!" The guy shouts in his face, obviously drunk. Ian stiffens, then smiles slightly and pats the guy on his shoulder.   
"Hey you!"   
"Never see you anymore." The guy pouts. "Such a shame! You had a nice little ass." He pinches Ian's ass and Mickey's eyebrows raise, even if he can't help but notice what a cute booty the kid has. 

The guy finally leaves, with a few more sexual innuendos and a lot more touching of Ian, and when Ian sits next to Mickey again, finishing his drink, Mickey speaks.  
"What the fuck was that?"   
"I-" Ian blushes and orders another drink.  
"Ian." Mickey warns, downing the rest of his drink. He feels like he needs to be a bit more buzzed for this conversation.   
"Did I mention I graduated college with my bachelor's? I want to go back for my masters, but maybe once Cami's done."   
"Why did that guy call you Curtis? And hit on you?" 

"School is really expensive. And where I come from, equal opportunity is bullshit. When I dropped out of the army-"   
"You were in the army?"   
"Yeah. I enrolled under my brothers name. They found out of course and kicked me out, and I didn't have many options after that. I became a stripper at this gay club down the street from here, he was an old customer. I promise you I haven't danced in years, not since I had enough money to pay for my school. And I just really don't wanna tell Cami-" 

"Wait, you haven't told her?"   
"No." Ian says softly, eyes downcast.   
"Why?" Mickey demands.   
"She knows everything, just not the stripping. I don't want her to be embarrassed of me. It wasn't my proudest moment." He says, staring at the bar as if it's the most interesting thing, "Please don't tell her."  
"Ian," Mickey says, "Look at me." Fuck he is so screwed because he wants to look into those eyes forever. "I'm not going to tell her but you have nothing to be ashamed of. You put yourself through school. And what are you now? Some kind of fucking scientist or shit?" 

Ian laughs and nods, finally smiling again and it makes Mickey smile too, as he leans in, ready to just brush his lips- Ian clears his throat and Mickey jolts, pulling away and chugging the rest of his drink, throat burning. He is so fucked. 

"Ian!" Mickey sings, as Ian tries to buckle him into the passenger seat of his car.   
"I'm right here Mick, you're fine."   
"Hell yes I'm fine. Thanks babe." Mickey slurs, trying and failing to wink at Ian. He ends up blinking twice and Ian laughs, pushing him back into the seat so he can try once again to buckle him into the car. 

This is probably his fault, he had let Mickey have a few too many drinks past his limit and now he has to take care of him. He pulls Mickey's shirt up a bit, and over his hip so he can buckle the seat belt easier.   
"Ian!" Mickey gasps. "If you wanna get me naked then you have to wait until we get home! I am a lady! Well not really, I have a penis, it's really nice if you wanna see-"   
"No I'm alright Mickey, I have one."   
"Well can I see yours?" 

The car ride home is awful, Mickey keeps reaching over and rubbing his thigh, muttering about how sexy he is. Ian's sure it's just the booze and the fact that Mickey probably puts his daughter first and hasn't been in a relationship in a long time but when Mickey starts rubbing himself through his jeans and moaning out Ian's name, he can't help but get a little excited. And that's only natural isn't it? 

Not a moment too soon, they arrive at Mickey's apartment complex and Ian parks, shutting his own door before going to help Mickey. The older man has thankfully stopped touching himself, but Ian can still see his jeans tenting and he's trying really hard not to look okay? He swiftly unbuckles Mickey and helps him out of the car. 

Mickey tilts his head up to Ian once he's on his feet, not about to fall over thanks to Ian's hands on his arms, when he licks his lips and trains his glazed blue eyes on Ian,   
"We gonna fuck now?"   
Ian chokes and shakes his head frantically,   
"No, no absolutely not. It's bedtime alright? Bedtime yay." 

Mickey doesn't make a move on him again, just wraps his arms around Ian's waist and leans his head on his chest which Ian is okay with. Though at this point he's pretty much okay with anything that isn't Mickey holding his dick. 

He unlocks the apartment door with the key he had confiscated from Mickey earlier, who was still under the impression he could drive, and flips on the light.  
"Bedroom bedroom." Mickey demands, as Ian pushes him away gently so he can remove his shoes.   
"You're gonna go to the bedroom by yourself and go to bed."   
Mickey frowns,  
"No."   
"Yes." Ian nods. 

"I wanna suck your dick." Mickey whines, as Ian kneels to remove his shoes.   
"Mickey, hey Mick, look at me yeah?"   
Mickey looks down and Ian can feel him salivating, he did not plan this well.   
"We're gonna go to bed alright? Big fluffy warm bed?"   
Mickey nods and Ian lines his shoes up against the door before taking his hand and heading towards Mickey's bedroom.   
"You gonna throw up?"   
Mickey shakes his head and Ian breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Alright honey, let's go." Ian says softly, helping Mickey into his bedroom. He flips on the light and helps him sit on the bed. "You ready for bed?"   
"I'm ready for sex!" Mickey hollers, gripping the edge of his shirt and trying and failing to pull it over his head. He lifts his hands and grunts, waiting for Ian to help him.   
"Mickey we're not gonna do anything but get you to sleep alright?" He says, pulling the shirt over Mickey's head. He tries not to stare too hard at the happy trail leading to Mickey's still tented pants. He takes a step back and rubs a hand over his jaw, "Fuck." He mumbles. 

"Kinda the point firecrotch." Mickey slurs, rocking his hips up into the air.   
"I can't." Ian pleads, taking another step away from the bed. "I'm gonna go get some water, you just stay there." Ian turns and walks back go the kitchen, yanking open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He's drunk too, but not drunk enough to justify sleeping with his fiancée father. But drunk enough to want to. 

"Ian!" Mickey whines, just as Ian opens the water bottle. "The button!"   
Ian sighs and presses his chilled hand to his forehead.   
"Shit."   
He makes his way back to Mickey's room and decides he needs to get this done now.   
"Alright, Mickey let's get you out of these pants." He says, popping the button on jeans quickly. "You can't sleep in jeans." He adds, as if saying it out loud makes it more okay for him to be hard in his own jeans right now. 

Mickey moans, as he kicks the jeans off, scooting farther back into the center of his bed.   
"Please, touch me. Touch me." His eyes are wide and glassy and his mouth is soft, wet and open and he looks so fucking hot,   
"I can't." Ian chokes, pulling back the sheets and helping Mickey get under them.   
"Please please!" Mickey begs, grabbing onto Ian's hand.   
"Mickey, it's time for bed alright? I'll stay here, make sure you don't choke on your own vomit but that's all I can do." 

"Lay with me? Please? You don't have to to touch me but please lay with me."   
Ian sighs, but his decision is made for him when Mickey starts moving his hand to his boxers. It's either touch him, or lay with him. He yanks it away, before kicking off his own jeans, he leaves his shirt on much to Mickey's dismay, and shuts off the light, crawling into bed next to Mickey, as far away as he could possibly be.   
"Thanks Ian!" Mickey says cheerfully, scooting closer to him, and wrapping his arms around Ian's waist. He's tired and his eyelids are drooping and he thinks he's had a bit too much to drink. 

They lay together for awhile without incident, and Ian's trying not to enjoy Mickey's cologne too much.   
"Ian?"  
"What?"   
"Kiss me. Please. And I'll go to bed. Please please. " Mickey begs, and he begs so prettily and maybe Ian is pretty drunk or he just wants to kiss someone new, or he's so freaking sick of Mickey whining that he just leans in and kisses that soft mouth that's gonna haunt his dreams for awhile. 

Mickey wakes up with someone spooning him from behind, his morning wood pressing into Mickey's lower back. He jumps out of bed frantically, turning to see who he'd slept with.  
"Fucker. Motherfucker!" He yells when he sees Ian. He closes his eyes and rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes until white bursts beneath his eyelids. 

Memories of the previous night come flooding in and he cannot breathe. How could he fucking do this? Ian is sitting up and he's staring at Mickey, eyes wide,  
"Mickey I-"   
"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. We cannot talk about this, I can't. I didn't. Fuck." He starts to pace the room and Ian stares. "How could I be so fucking stupid. I didn't mean-"   
He doesn't realize Ian even moved until he's in front of Mickey, gripping his wrists so hard that he feels the bone move,   
"You're fine. You're more than fine. You're good."   
"But I took advantage of you." Mickey says, a hard edge to his voice.  
"No, no." Ian soothes, rubbing his hands up Mickey's arms. "You were drunk."   
"But you weren't and I made you-"   
"Hey," Ian says gently, tipping Mickey's head up so he can meet his eyes. "Let's get one thing straight, if I wasn't with-" He can't even say her name. "I would be so over you." 

And the worst part to Mickey is that he sounds genuine and god does Mickey feel like a fool because he's been carrying a torch for his future son in law and- he's an awful dad.   
"Just get out Ian. Don't tell Camille anything. Don't worry- I will make sure these little hangouts never happen again."   
"Mickey wait-"  
"I'm going to shower and you better be gone by the time I'm done." 

He spends the rest of the day drinking bloody mary's and he eats a whole pizza himself. It feels amazing, and he's on his seventh episode of LA Hair and he really considers ignoring his daughters phone call.   
"What?"   
"What crawled up your ass and died?"   
"Nothing. I'm busy."   
"No you're not. Just wanted to confirm coffee for tomorrow?"   
"Yeah honey, we can do coffee. Nine right? "   
"Yeah. See you tomorrow daddy."   
"I love you."   
"Love you too!" 

"So Ian says you guys had fun." Camille says when the barista calls their orders. "Yeah it was fine."   
"Good! So I was thinking-"  
"Camille, I approve of your engagement, I approve of your dork fiancee but I am not having weekly dates with him like I do with you. That's it, period."   
She frowns,   
"But I thought you liked him?"   
Mickey sighs, yeah that's the problem.   
"I said no." He reaches his hand across the table to hold hers. "You have your own life and I have mine. I don't need to be his best friend and he probably doesn't want that anyway."   
Camille nods, looking intently at her father's arm,   
"What on earth is this?" She asks, tracing the finger shaped bruise on his wrist. 

He yanks his arm back as of he'd been burned,   
"I have no clue."   
"Did someone get too handsy with you last night? Ian said you got a little drunk."   
"What? What else did he say?"   
"Nothing. He just said he likes you. And he doesn't feel like you're going to kill him."   
" Of course not."   
That's never really been the problem. 

Mickey distances himself from Ian all throughout the wedding planning. He doesn't quite mean to limit his contact with Camille but he cannot be around Ian. For her sake really. Honestly he can't do it. Camille asks about it, of course she does, but she drops it when Mickey reassures he yes he really does like Ian but he's trying to give her space. 

"Dad, I know you don't like spending time with Ian but, come tomorrow he's gonna be your son in law so you need to go to the bachelor party."   
"Cami-" She turns to him, hand on her hip, curling iron in hand, looking strangely like Mandy.   
"Dad. You're going, and of story."   
"I don't-"   
"You're my only eyes in that place! Go watch him. Please."   
Mickey sighs, and kisses her on the head before heading home to change. 

The Bachelor party is typical, there's strippers and loud music and shots after shots after shots. Mickey doesn't think he's had this much tequila since he turned twenty-one. Since he is the father of the bride, and sadly Ian's ride to the church tomorrow, he's supposed to be taking care of the younger guy. As much as he'd wanted to help Camille get ready, both Mandy and Svetlana had told him no way in hell is he seeing his baby girl before he gives her away. 

It's hard to take care of a drunk person when you're equally drunk, Mickey thinks as he finally gets the door to his apartment open. Ian is laughing into his shoulder from where he's molded against his back and they both stumble onto the apartment when the door opens. 

"So did you have fun?" Mickey asks, walking to his bedroom to grab some blankets from his room so Ian can sleep on his couch.   
"Yeah. Those strippers were hot."   
"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." Mickey slurs, flicking on his bedroom light and heading to the closet, Ian on his heels.   
"Didn't they turn you on?" Ian asks, watching Mickey stretch up on his tiptoes to grab a pile of blankets out of the closet.   
"Well yeah but-"

Mickey barely turns around before Ian has him pressed against the wall, the comforter falling from his hands at their feet. He shoves his mouth to Mickey's, yanking him back by his hair so Ian can get at his mouth the way he wants. Ian's already half hard, and he's rutting against Mickey's thigh and he can't breathe.   
"Ian what-" Mickey breaks away for a second, lips brushing Ian's jaw.   
"Ssh. Shh. Just come on. Please." He adjusts his hips so they're lined up with Mickey's hardening dick. 

Mickey let's out a moan and bucks against Ian, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him back down so he can lick into his mouth. It feels so good and Mickey hasn't gotten this hard this fast in forever. It feels so good to have another cock, someone else's hardness pressing against his and he wishes he could just yank down his pants and bend over and feel that hardness against his ass, fuck. 

Ian's making all these breathy noises in his ear, his hand still tight against Mickey's neck, holding him right where he wants him. His hips are bucking wildly with no rhythm and Mickey is hit with the realization that Ian is still young, can probably come in his pants just from this. At that thought, Ian slides his hand down Mickey's back and pushes them into his jeans, grabbing at his ass, moaning aloud with Mickey. 

"Fuck, your ass." Ian gasps against Mickey's mouth, before grinding his hips harder. It's only a few more moments before Ian stills against Mickey, eyes clenched shut, fists squeezing Mickey's ass as he clearly comes. Mickey rubs his back and kisses his jaw through it.   
"That was really good." Ian laughs into Mickey's hair. "Now c'mere and let me take care of you." He mumbles, unbuttoning Mickey's jeans and shoving his hands in his boxers, just enough to get out Mickey's leaking cock. 

"God, it's so pretty." Ian moans, hand stroking up his red cock, thumb swiping at the wet head. He drops to his knees when Mickey's head thumps against the wall and braces his hands on strong thighs, sucking the head into his mouth.   
Mickey gasps, and his eyes fly open,   
"Fuck, Ian-"   
"Ssh. Come on Mickey. Can you come for me?" He rasps, looking up from under his lashes.   
Mickey nods frantically, as Ian takes him back down, tongue swirling along his dick, his hand wrapping around what he can't reach. 

It's pathetic as far as how long Mickey doesn't hold out, he laces a hand in Ian's hair and bucks his hips three times before he's choking out a warning,   
"Ian, you better pull, if you don't wanna-"   
Ian sucks harder if possible and Mickey shouts as he comes, spilling down Ian's throat. 

Mickey's gone by the time Ian wakes up, his mouth thick and sticky, tasting like death, back aching from where he slept on Mickey's floor. He doesn't know exactly what to do once he's showered and brushed his teeth (twice), so he dresses himself and calls a cab to take him to the church. 

He doesn't even see Mickey until he's giving his daughter away to him and he's not even looking him in the eye. Ian feels like he's going to throw up because he feels like he can taste Mickey's come at the back of his throat.   
"Do you, Ian Clayton Gallagher take Camille Sapphire Milkovich to be your lawfully wedded wife?"   
Ian's eyes flick to Mickey, who's purposefully looking down.   
"I do." Ian says. And he doesn't even choke. 

Now that she's a married woman, it's hard for Camille to get away for their weekly coffee dates and dinners. Ian's looking for a new job, she's going to start her sophomore year of college soon, and she'd apparently hinted to Mandy that she was looking into going off of her birth control. Mickey tried not to take it personally. 

He tries to spend more time with Svetlana but she laughs at him, and tells him to go home, and Mandy's knocked up again, and he's never really realized that he doesn't have any friends. 

He expects it to get better. For him to feel better. Less lonely, less guilty. 

He doesn't. 

"Daddy, I know we haven't spent a lot of time together since I've gotten married but I was wondering if Ian and I could come over for a pizza and movie night on Friday. We'll bring the pizza! And I'll even have Ian make your favorite chocolate cheesecake. I just miss you, please say yes."   
And Mickey feels like such a shitty father because he's been ignoring his baby girl for his own bullshit feelings and it's not okay.   
"Yeah honey, come over whenever alright? And no olives on the pizza!"   
"I know Dad! See you Friday!" 

Friday comes too quickly, and Mickey's drank about five beers before they can even get there. He knows getting drunk isn't a smart idea, but he needs to be pleasantly buzzed to see Ian. 

Camille bustles into the kitchen and it's just like she never left his life, she's carrying the pizzas to the living room, with napkins and paper plates and liters of pop.   
"Hey Dad!" She says hugging him tightly. She misses the fact that Mickey and Ian don't even look at each other because she's already sitting in the middle of couch, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza, and patting the space next to her, "Come on babe, sit down!" 

They're in the middle of White House Down when Camille nudges Ian,   
"Go get us some cake babe."   
"Alright." Ian says, heading to the kitchen without another word.   
"Oh Dad, go help him with it. He doesn't know where a knife or anything is." She says, eyes locked on Channing Tatum. 

Mickey sighs, but knows It's better to go now before he causes her any suspicion, and he slumps to the kitchen.   
"Knives are in the left drawer." He says.   
Ian doesn't look up, just grabs a knife and then grabs the cake out of the refrigerator.   
"What are you doing in here? Trying to make this harder on me?"   
"Harder on you? Are you fucking kidding me? You should have thought about how awkward it was going to be when you put my dick in your mouth." He hisses. 

"I didn't see you complaining."   
"Yeah well I didn't see you calling off the wedding."   
Ian whips around, shoving Mickey against the kitchen island.   
"Is that what you wanted me to do? Call off the fucking wedding? Really? And how did you want me to explain that."   
Mickey shakes his head,   
"I didn't mean that. Of course I didn't want you to call off the wedding. I'm sorry, I'm done. I didn't-"   
"I mean did you really see this going somewhere? I'm attracted to you- god you're so fucking hot but- I can't." Ian says softly, turning back to the cake. 

"Let's just make this easier on each other. We're just going to continue to not talk."   
"How are we not going to talk? You're my father in law."  
"Exactly, and it's not going to look very good if we fuck."   
Ian sighs,   
"Alright. We'll just, ignore each other." 

It works. For awhile. 

Mickey can hear the thunder outside and he's just about to shut off the TV and head to bed, he can't hear a damn thing anyway, when there's banging on his door. His first thought is Camille, or that another one of Mandy's boyfriend's beat her up and he yanks open the door, momentarily forgetting he's only in a pair of boxers.   
"What?" 

It's Ian and he's sopping wet, hair looking even more red, skin even more pale.   
"What's wrong? Cami?" Mickey demands.   
Ian shakes his head, water droplets flying,   
"No no she's fine. We just, had a fight. I can't stay there and I wasn't, I know it's inappropriate but-"   
"Come in." Mickey says, allowing him in.   
"I I I'm sorry." Ian stutters, wrapping his arms around himself. 

"It's fine." Mickey repeats. "You must be freezing. Let's get you a cup of hot chocolate and we'll talk about it. Everything will be okay in the morning alright?"   
Ian let's Mickey lead him into the kitchen and Mickey puts a pot of milk on the stove and turns on the burner. Ian stands, watching him and admiring the curve of his bare back.   
"Let's get you out of those wet clothes, I think I have some pants-" Before Mickey can finish his sentence, Ian is whipping the soaking wet shirt over his head and onto the floor. 

His pants follow, then his boxers, until he's left standing slightly damp and a lot naked in Mickey's kitchen.   
"What the fuck?" Mickey asks.  
Ian shakes his head and moves closer to Mickey, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing his open mouth.   
"I want you I want you so fucking bad. Please let me have you? Please." Ian begs, hands gripping Mickey's forearms. Without thinking, and against better judgment, Mickey nods and Ian sighs in relief. 

He strips Mickey fast, so he doesn't have time to change his mind, and he presses himself closer to the shorter boy, his own body shivering. Mickey kisses him eagerly, fingers carding through his wet hair.   
"What do you wanna do?" He murmurs.   
"Anything. Everything. Do you top or?"   
Mickey shakes his head, rolling his hips into Ian's,   
"Bottom." He nips at Ian's lip.

Ian moans, his hips meeting Mickey's.   
"Fuck that's so hot. Can I? I'll treat you so good. Make you come so hard. Can I fuck you Mick? Please say yes."   
Mickey's nodding before Ian's even finished his sentence and Ian kisses him again, fucking his tounge into his mouth as a dirty promise of what's to come. He lifts Mickey up, wrapping his legs around his waist and braces him against the kitchen sink, removing his left hand from his hips so Mickey can wet his fingers.

"Suck." He says, pushing three fingers into Mickey's mouth. Mickey sucks greedily, eyes locked on Ian's the whole time. Ian licks his lips watching him, pulling the fingers out when he thinks they're wet enough. He connects their mouths again, sliding his wet fingers to Mickey's ass, letting one circle his hole. 

"Come on." Mickey grunts, lifting his hips to give Ian more room.   
"Alright, I'm coming." Ian says, pecking Mickey's forehead. He pinches a nipple as he slides his middle finger into tight heat. "God you're so tight."   
"Been awhile." Mickey grunts, leaning up to kiss Ian. 

Mickey rushes Ian along, hips bucking and begging for another finger.   
"Come on already, I want you to fuck me!" Mickey whines, reaching a hand down to stroke Ian's red and leaking cock.   
"I'm getting there babe, I want it to be good for you."   
"It's gonna be good if you fucking get in me!" Mickey argues.   
Ian chuckles into his shoulder and lifts Mickey's leg onto his shoulder, crooking his fingers to scrape against Mickey's prostate,   
"Pushy little bottom." 

Mickey keens as Ian rubs his prostate again.   
"Okay, okay I won't tease." He spits in his hand and strokes the slick over his cock, "You ready?"   
"Fuck yeah. I've been ready, just get inside me." Mickey says, tilting his hips up. Ian rolls his eyes and rubs the head of his cock over Mickey's hole, just watch the muscle clench. "Ian." Mickey whines. 

Ian grabs the base of his dick, sliding slowly into Mickey, watching his face for every reaction. He starts to grimace when Ian's about halfway in and Ian stills,   
"You okay?"   
"Just been awhile, like I said." Mickey grits out. "You can keep going."   
Ian stills again when he bottoms out, and he kisses Mickey gently, stroking his now only half hard cock.   
"You good?"   
Mickey nods,   
"Yeah. You're just fucking big."   
Ian laughs, stroking Mickey in time to his own thrusts. 

"You feel so fucking good, god Mick. Squeezing so tight around me. I'm not gonna-"   
Mickey laughs,   
"You're close?"   
Ian slaps his arm,  
"Shut up. You're hot, and tight and I've been thinking about this for a long time."   
"How long?" Mickey asks, kissing his jaw.   
"The first time I saw your stupid face. Your stupid gelled hair and tattooed knuckles." He thrusts harder, hitting Mickey's prostate and Mickey groans.   
"You're good at this." 

"I know." Ian winks, jerking Mickey faster, precome leaking over his hand. "Now let's go so I can come. You're getting heavy."   
Mickey's halfway braced against the kitchen sink but Ian's mostly holding him up and Mickey's leg is beginning to cramp so he grabs pulls Ian closer and kisses him sloppily, and clenches his ass tighter around Ian's cock. 

"Ian come on, faster." Mickey demands as he bats Ian's hand away, wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking quickly. Half a dozen stokes later he's coming, shooting over Ian's stomach, moaning out Ian's name. Ian kisses the edge of Mickey's mouth, grunting as he comes, spilling inside of Mickey.   
"Fuck that was amazing." He pants against Mickey's sweaty forehead.  
"Tell me about it." Mickey replies, head falling against Ian's chest, he doesn't realize when he got so sleepy.  
"Come on big guy, let's get you to bed." Ian says softly, helping Mickey so he can wrap both legs around his waist so he can be carried to his bedroom.

"I'm telling you the next time we do that it will be on a bed, with an industrial sized bottle of lube because I am too old for this shit." Mickey calls from the bathroom the next morning. He's got bruises in places he doesn't want them, and he feels sore as a virgin. Ian doesn't respond and he pokes his head out the bathroom door,   
"Hey firecrotch, thought we were gonna shower?"   
Ian's sitting on his bed, staring down at his lap,   
"Um, Camille called."   
Mickey's eyes widen,   
"You didn't answer did you?"   
"No I didn't answer, what do you think I'm a fucking idiot?"  
"No. You just go get in the shower and I'll be in in a minute." 

Ian slinks off to the bathroom and he waits until the door is closed before he dials his daughters number,   
"Hi honey, what's going on?" He asks, hoping he sounds casual and not like he just got fucked.   
"Daddy,"   
He can tell she's crying,   
"Cami darling what's wrong?"   
"Daddy, Ian filed for a divorce."   
Mickey looks in the direction of the bathroom, where he can still hear the water running,   
"Well fuck."

**Author's Note:**

> Ian eventually marries Mickey's daughter and they do maintain a sexual relationship.


End file.
